


I Walk The Line

by Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492



Series: Aguilar de Nera x Maria Fics [7]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath, F/M, Post-Movie, Video Game Characters that I did not add into the character tag, the Bleeding Effect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 08:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492/pseuds/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492
Summary: The woman had looked at him, drawing her hands into his own, until they became identical in their destruction. Though her name had changed her face was still the same. Aguilar stirred from within him, calling out Maria's name, and Callum Lynch did the same.





	I Walk The Line

The woman had looked at him, drawing her hands into his own, until they became identical in their destruction. Though her name had changed her face was still the same. Aguilar stirred from within him, calling out Maria's name, and Callum Lynch did the same.

 

  
Abstergo had been abandoned by Sophia and Alan-both after the Apple-leaving everything behind. The technicians and caretakers had been left with nothing more than basic self defense and were quickly disposed of. Their bodies laying lifeless, the delicate white uniforms stained with the dark crimson of their blood. Some stabbed, others pushed from platforms, all dead lifeless bodies.

The guards had also been left behind.

There had proved to be more of them than there were technicians and caretakers. Not to mention that they held a stockpile of weapons that they had used for years to subdue rowdy test subjects. Their defeat was prolonged, the ones caught within smoke bombs and on off guard duty were the first to go. Followed by the ones who were more equipped when they had stormed the Animus chambers, before the last line of defense came in with helmets and crossbows, though they had fallen all the same. Leaving an unsteady breath amongst them all-whether it be the countless deaths or the more cold fact that Sophia and Alan had indeed left people for dead. For no one would leave this facility unscathed. The world simply didn't work with peaceful solutions. Even Abstergo. Leaving dead workers and guards; the Head of Security not found amongst them. Though Callum had a sneaking suspicion that the man had remained in the facility longer than any of his guards had lived.

The Test Subjects, however, were a different story all together. The inactive ones had been disposed of upon the purge of the facility. Their brains had far too much neurological damage brought upon by to many unsynchronized Animus sessions. Their bodies were old, withered, and they all held the same blindness. Even his own father had not survived which left an uneased feeling lingering within him.

The active ones simply roamed the halls in groups of three, four and five, six even. Picking up the weapons of their ancestors-Assassin and Templar alike-moving in groups as if their amcestors or bloodlines hadn't fought for centuries. Though the lines between the Assassins and Templars was not as clearly drawn as they would have liked to believe; traitors and turncoats, children born from both sides.

Weapons. Money. Needs that they had, that only the guards and workers would have on them.

Taking from the dead would have bothered him before, but not now. Not after everything that had happened after the death of his mother. When he had joined gang after gang. Not after his arrest. When he had killed that pimp in the bar, the bartender-a man named Desmond-had surved him a drink afterwards, before he had been led away in cuffs. His own death, or was it rebirth?  
It all changed everything up until this moment.

Moussa had left their small group near the lab. Telling them that he was going to see who would join them on going after Abstergo, or simply meeting up later if they had been I injured or wished simply to not get involved so soon.  
Nathan was injuried and spewing out old English curses that didnt sound quite like him. Emir held a bruise that was quickly growing across the edge of his scalp, his hands patching up Nathan, as he shushed the Brit in a language that Callum didnt know. Lin seemed good though if silence and a calm stance meant so. Her eyes occasionly moving to the hall that Moussa had gone down, hands running methodically against the edges of Moussa's black deck of cards.

Callum kept his bloodied hands wrapped around the necklace that had belonged to his mother-her family, Aguilar, and once before him, Maria. His weapons still on him as he leaned against the wall. Tempted almost to enter the labs, to take the information that was behind it, and the weapons that remained sealed away in Alan Rikkins office. But he didn't wish to leave his only friends alone even if they had a rough start with each other.

  
"I found some friends." Moussa said upon his return.  
The girl who had kicked him in the face. Still clinging to the book that he had picked up for her. A Rikkin. Another family member that had roamed the facility, though he was more of a test subject than a doctor. And a woman that looked like a memory as her vivid blue eyes locked with his.

Though perhaps any friend was better than none.

 

The hidden blade is black with darker grey metal, designed in a more modern manner, with the symbol that hanged upon the necklace embedded into the end of it. Created to be disassembled for easier access to restricted areas. Designed before her knowledge of him, though she had given them to him all the same, sending a memory into his senses.  
When Maria had placed Aguilar with his own hidden blades.

The hidden blade is also dripping blood into his hands. A feeling that is only rivaled by the cool metal of the Apple of Eden that sits within his hands. Both of which seem to go unnoticed as the eight of them roam and jump from roof to roof. Identical dressed figures clad in black with weapons that had once belonged to the dead.  
And he remembers them, learns their names along the journey into London, whether if the bloodline is short or long. Yusuf Tazim is the first that he learns about when Emir explains the language he had spoke. Duncan Walpole only came when Nathan began calling the blank wall of a motel in France an asshole. Baptiste, he has known since the day he met Moussa, and perhaps that is bad considering the Bleeding Effect.

Shao Jun had lived in the time after Aguilar, and she comes with a century more of descendants that Lin speaks of over a can of cold soup. Then there are the three who had been kept close to Alan almost as much as he had been with Sophia. Maria, Jacob, and Evie is what he hears them being called, and it isn't until he finally is allowed to look at Lara's book that he recieves more names. Aya, Malik, Élise, Lydia.  
Until learning about what the others sees becomes a games that he plays to kepp his mind from what is to come in the next few days.   
Until he learns his own names by going through the information that he had taken from the office.

Altaìr, Aguilar, Charles, Arno, Laura, Mary. Names from different times and orders. The first having other bloodlines of people that he will never meet in the Animus. The second, being as close to him until the line between Aguilar de Nerha and Callum Lynch become a blur.

Ghost that linger within them until he is pulled away from reality and for a second-for a single second when he opens his mind, preparing for the Leap of Faith, he finally sees her-his mother.

The fall awakens him.

Pulls him back as the woman grabs a hold of his hands. His own bloodied ones staining her own with destruction. Moussa had said her name once-though it draws upon a blank-for her face, her eyes, the way that she is holding herself, cause a stir. Aguilar uncurling like a cat with his mind. Speaking her name over and over. A mantra that is called Maria.

There is a pause. A second of hesitation before she speaks with that French accented voice, laced with something else that he cannot place.

"Are you alright, Cal?"

He feels himself grasp her hand. Feels himself sink into a memory of walking across heated lands that smelled of flame until he is seeing a life that he did not live. A life that is snapped away from him as a sharp tug pulls him-it almost feels like desynching, leaving the Animus with a quick jab.

"I'm fine." He tells her, but she knows that he is not. None of them are anymore.

It would only take moments later before it dawns upon him that he had spoken that in Spanish.

**Author's Note:**

> For those in the path of Harvey, or those who will recieve the effects of it like myself, stay safe!


End file.
